Page 113 of Midnight Between Us
A bitter laugh scrapes out of me.“Yeah, well.Some nights, when the nightmares crawl in and refuse to let go, I still hear him.Like he’s standing right behind me, watching them beat the shit out of me.And right before I wake up, he says, ‘Don’t kill him.Let him bleed out.Just like he did to me.’”
That silences them.
Malerick’s arms drop to his sides, his expression shifting, unguarded for once.“You never told us that.”
“It’s just a dream.”I shrug, already regretting the vulnerability.“Obviously, I’m working on it.”
His voice comes out low, but clear.“What if it’s not just a dream?”
The question lands with a thud I can’t name.I blink at him.The air is suddenly too thick to breathe.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Our father.”
I suck in a breath because ...it had to be a dream.Is he ...“What about him?”
“You wanted to know what happened to him,” Mal says.
“Yeah, and?”
“He’s alive.”Malerick doesn’t sugarcoat it.“And he’s working with them—the Hollow Syndicate.”
I take a step back, not because I need to—but because I need something to brace against.“You’re serious?”
“As serious as a fucking heart attack.”He shrugs as if it’s a fact of life and we should deal with it.“Dear Daddy is no other than Desmond Draven’s right hand.”
My brain short-circuits, searching for logic in a landscape that doesn’t have any.I glance at Ledger and Hopper, who, like me, are astonished at the news.
“I always thought he had died,” Ledger adds.
“That’s what I tell everyone.”Hop shrugs then adds, “He’s dead to me.”
“How—” The question disintegrates before it forms.None of this makes sense.
Atlas steps in.“We have ears around but haven’t found out much.He began working for them after he left Birchwood Springs.There’s still the question of who is Desmond Draven’s heir.”
I remember that conversation they had with Simone while I was at the hospital.So I have to ask.“Is it Sims?”
Mal doesn’t answer at first.When he does, his throat works around the words.“No, but whoever is the heir ...they’re either hunting her down.”
I swallow the curse clawing its way up my throat.“Why would they be hunting for her?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Atlas responds.“Possibly to take over the Syndicate.”
I stare at them, confused.I have so many questions, and ...it seems like they won’t have any answers.
“Every time we think we’ve got answers, we’re handed more questions.”Mal sighs, as if he’s responding to at least one of my silent questions.
A beat of silence falls.A storm building in the distance—not in the sky, but here, between us.
And I can’t help but think: we survived our father.I survived his most recent attack, but maybe survival was never the endgame.
Maybe it was just the beginning, but what’s next?
“Are you sure it’s safe that I stay in town?”I ask because if they’re in danger, I should leave right now—maybe take Simone with me.
“We’re okay,” Mal says, voice even but not entirely certain.“As long as we stay ahead of them.And I think we are.”
